Talk With The Boss
by Ceu Praca
Summary: "Detective Fusco, you are only supposed to call this number in the event of an emergency." **** Lionel calls Finch the day after the team's adventure to see how Reese is holding up after the crazed vigilante thought it was a good idea to jump out a window. I don't care how awesome you are, that kind of stunt would HURT. This is a Three-Chapter story.
1. Emergency Line

**A/N1:** Yay, another Fusco fic! *dances gleefully* Oh, I've been having Lionel withdrawal recently; the past two PoI episodes had _zero_ good material for writing any Fusco Fiascoes, so I was overjoyed during S3-E18 "Allegiance" when there was more of Lionel, hence, more great material. By the way, Lionel Fusco looks weirdly adorable in a fireman's uniform. XD Okay, yeah, I'm all hyped on on chocolate as I write this.

**A/N2: **Anyway, I've written so many friendship stories about Lionel and John, but this time, I decided to try to concept of: what if Fusco decided to call Finch, instead of the other way around? This short fic takes place the day after S3-E18 "Allegiance." Oh, one other thing: suspicious static! :D

...you'll understand what I mean by that pretty soon. XD _I don't own Person of Interest, Lionel Fusco, Harold Finch, John Reese, Samantha Shaw, etc. Shut up and quit squashing my dreams._

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"Detective Fusco, you are only supposed to call this number in the event of an _emergency_."

"Yeah, I know," I retorted, glancing up from my desk quickly to make sure no one was taking notice of my phone call. "but you never left me a way to contact you for non-emergencies, so fair's fair."

"If you insist, Detective," the voice answered, sounding dryly amused. "What was it you wished to speak about?"

I sat up a little straighter, smiling slightly at the slight victory, subconsciously smoothening my tie as if the Invisible Wonder was actually sitting across from me. Of course, knowing him, he probably was watching from wherever his headquarters were located. "Superman jumped out a window last night, and I wanted to check that he's okay."

"Why don't you just ask him yourself?" The voice sounded genuinely interested all of a sudden.

I grimaced; of course, Glasses wanted _reasons_. Couldn't he just give me a straight answer at least _once_? "Because he hates it when I get worried about him, okay? He gets all defensive as if I'd tried jabbing him with a knife."

"I'm sure that, at least inwardly, our mutual friend is grateful for your 'jabbing,' Detective. I appreciate your concern; it is somewhat of a relief to know that I am not the only one looking out for him."

I blinked, surprised by that. The Boss had never shown outward emotions, really, at least not during the brief time that I'd known him, so it kinda caught me off guard. "Yeah, well…how is he? The guy caved in the roof of a car with his body, for heaven's sake."

"He is quite sore today, with numerous bruises and a few small cuts from the glass, but he is otherwise intact and should be back to peak health by the end of the week."

"Okay, good. Uh…can you not tell him that I called? Like I said, he doesn't like it. And try to keep him out of trouble until he's feeling better."

"Will do, Detective, although I can't say yes for certain on that last one. The…new cases never stop coming. I should mention that I wholeheartedly agree with you about his defensiveness; if you believe that he is hostile when you ask about his welfare, try actually treating his wounds sometime."

_Was that actually humor? Wow, that's rare._ I grinned in spite of myself. "Well, thanks again for updating me. Have Shaw knock him upside the head if he tries jumping out of any more windows."

I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or not, but I heard a faint chuckle come from my phone. Or it was just static that had a weird resemblance to a chuckle. "Don't worry, Detective, I had a long talk with him about recklessness, although I doubt that he'll actually follow my advice. If that is all…?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. Then again, maybe he could. "Yeah, that's all. Thanks again."

"Oh, and Detective…"

I tensed. _He needs another favor, doesn't he?_ "What?"

To my surprise, he said a phone number, which I quickly wrote down, then: "I appreciate your sense of loyalty. If you feel the need to get in touch with me again, then please use this new number. The line we are currently on, might I emphasize again, is for _emergencies_. Calling this line is a good way to elevate my stress level."

"Right," I replied quickly. "Sorry, Boss."

I heard more suspicious static, then the line went dead.


	2. Confidential

**A/N: **Okay, somehow, what I thought was going to be only a oneshot has expanded into a three-part story. So...yeah, my imagination runs away with me sometimes. XD This segment is from Finch's point of view; Part 3 will be from Lionel's POV again. I've had people compliment me for writing these character's voices perfectly, but honestly, I really, really struggle with writing anything John Reese. The guy has the most annoying personality to write about. :P So, if my portrayal of Reese is a bit...off, then I apologize. A huge thank you to "Guest," who has seen fit to read all of my PoI stories; his/her reviews really brightened up my day! And, yes...this three-part story is actually a sequel to my other Fusco story, "Visitor." Be sure to check it out if you want a little more about this thread that I keep writing.

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**2: Confidential**

Finch slid the emergency phone back into its slot beneath the desk, unable to stop his lips from twitching into a faint smile. _'Boss?' When did he start using that term for me?_ With Shaw continually wanting to kill people, Ms. Groves standing at the brink of insanity, and Reese always teetering somewhere between depressed and homicidal, there was definitely something about Detective Fusco that brought a little light, a little humor, into the small team. He was also a refreshing bit of honesty and kindness in the midst of so much political corruption.

"Something amusing, Harold?"

Finch started slightly at the familiar whisper behind him; he hadn't even realized that John was awake. "Amusing, no, Mr. Reese. Satisfying, perhaps." _That I'm not the only one with a 'mother hen' mindset,_ he added mentally.

The ex-op took his usual seat next to the desk, moving with a noticeable stiffness, though a slight wince was the only outward indication of pain that he gave. "What happened? Root finally get a bullet through her brain?"

Harold flinched. "Please, Mr. Reese; as…aggravating…as Ms. Groves can sometimes be, she has proven herself to be useful."

"_Sometimes_? You mean always, right? She's more annoying than she is useful," John replied with a faint smirk, rubbing his left wrist slightly; he'd bent it the wrong way when he'd landed, and it was a miracle that the bone hadn't broken. "It's her air of 'I'm better than everyone else in the universe' attitude. That, and her penchant for kidnapping. She bothers me."

_At least this thread of conversation redirected his mind from asking further questions. I will honor the detective's request as best as I can._ "Holding grudges can be deadly."

"Don't worry, Harold," the ex-op said with a quiet chuckle. "Lionel is more likely to shoot her than I am."

At that, Finch smiled slightly again. "Yes, he does seem to have a particularly strong dislike for her."

"Then again, he hates _anyone_ who's ever posed a threat to our team," John mused, cocking his head to one side. "So who were you talking to?"

"Certain calls are confidential, Mr. Reese," he answered dryly.

The man arched one eyebrow. "More secrets? I thought we were past that by now."

"Would you stop asking questions if I told you that I was merely having a discussion with one of my lawyers?"

John pulled out a small knife and began toying with it idly. "Not really. I thought _you_ were the lawyer."

Finch stared at the blade with veiled fascination. Did the man go _anywhere_ without a weapon? He'd been sleeping, and the library was perfectly safe; why was he still armed? "Let certain inquiries die, Reese," he said seriously. "Do I interrogate you about every phone call you make?"

"No, but you don't need to; your Machine spies on me constantly, anyway. By the way, you didn't happen to hear anything from Fusco, did you?"

Finch was immediately on guard. John never asked a question for no reason. "Might I ask why?"

"He was chasing after me last night bugging me about my health," John replied, looking mildly annoyed. "He was acting worse than he did that time I-"

Finch raised an eyebrow. "That time you what?"

John looked disbelieving. "He never told you?"

"Told me _what_?" Now the computer genius was getting confused.

John seemed like he was contemplating something, then shrugged. "That I got drunk last week. Funny that he never told you."

Finch tried giving John his most intimidating look, but the ex-op seemed totally oblivious to his employer's disapproval. He finally sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exhaustion; it had been a long night. "Mr. Reese, do we need to have a discussion on drunkenness and how it is to be avoided?"

John's eyes narrowed. "Don't even start. I'm fine, Harold. Like I said, Fusco scolds me bad enough, I don't need more lectures from you."

"You may think that you are fine, but you often have lapses in judgment."

An annoyed glare was the only response he received, and John stood, stalking back into the concealed bedroom. Finch contemplated for a moment, checked the time, then called Bear to him and left the hidden base. He needed to have another talk with the detective, and he didn't want to risk Reese overhearing what he had to say.


	3. Park Meeting

**3: Park Meeting**

I nearly jumped clean out of my seat when a certain dog bolted out of nowhere, sitting in front of me and barking obnoxiously. I glared at him, then looked around warily; Bear never traveled alone, and, unfortunately, I knew that that crazy girl, Root, sometimes 'borrowed' him. "What do you want? Shut up before you give me a headache!"

The dog still wouldn't stop barking, then I heard a voice: "_Goede jongen_, Bear; _rustig_."

The dog shut up, and I looked over my shoulder, seeing, to my surprise, Glasses limping quickly toward me. He gave a polite smile, sitting carefully on the park bench next to me. I frowned; it had only been half an hour since I'd called him, and it was freaking me out that he'd suddenly seen fit to interrupt my lunch break. "What are you doing here?"

"First, let me apologize for startling you. Bear is a search dog, and part of his training includes barking to let his handler know when he's found his target."

I eyed the dog, forcing myself to not get too annoyed. Yeah, if it had been Root, or even Shaw, I would've been mad, but Finch was…well, not _harmless_, but he was far more courteous than anyone else on the team. "Okay, so now that you've said sorry for giving me a heart attack…what do you want?"

It never failed to amaze me that the mastermind behind the team of vigilantes, the man capable of hacking the most secure networks in the world, was so small, unassuming, and physically helpless. Then again, with people like Reese and Shaw on his side, he could be dangerous. He seemed normal enough for now, though, petting Bear and giving him a treat. "I wish to speak with you concerning our mutual friend."

_Oh. That's why he's here._ "Why? Did he really manage to get in trouble again in under half an hour?"

Finch chuckled softly; okay, then, it wasn't just static I'd heard. "Well, yes and no. Physically, he's not in trouble, but…it has been brought to my attention that he became quite inebriated last week."

I winced. "Yeah, about that…"

"He mentioned that, apparently, you had threatened to tell me about the incident. The fact that you consider me to be his principle aside, I would like to know why you didn't carry out your threat."

I stared at him. "Well…no, I guess I don't really have an excuse for not telling you. Are you saying that you _want_ me to tattle on him whenever he does something stupid now?"

Finch gave me an amused look. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Do you know what drove him to…intoxicate himself?"

"He was trying to work through his issues in all the wrong ways. Mainly, the whole mess with Carter triggered it. Again. He was mumbling stuff about some Machine or other and how Taylor had blamed him for everything that happened."

The whole 'Machine' bit may have been true, but I'd deliberately mentioned it to Finch to see if I'd get a reaction; I still wanted to know what the heck Reese had been talking about. Sure enough, the Boss tensed visibly. "A machine? What kind of machine?"

_Huh, this is starting to get interesting._ "Yeah. He wasn't making much sense, though. He said that he can't keep secrets from 'The Machine,' and acted all freaked out when I asked him what he was talking about."

Finch looked pensive. "But he didn't say anything more?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Do you know what he was talking about?"

"He was drunk, Detective. As a result, I doubt he made much sense."

_Way to be elusive. That wasn't a yes or a no, Glasses._ I figured I should drop it, though. He was acting as weird as John had. "Never mind, then. So, you came here for…?"

He met my gaze levelly. "I merely wished to inform you that, if you notice John behaving erratically again, whether it be more drunkenness, or merely putting himself in _avoidable_ dangerous situations such as window-jumping, I want you to report it to me immediately. He is too valuable of an asset to lose."

_What is it with everyone on this team and the word 'asset?' Just say 'friend' already, will ya?_ "Yeah, I will. You're sure he's okay today, right?"

"Yes, other than being rather miffed at our collective concern for him." He stood, clipping a leash to Bear's collar. "I should go, Detective. We will contact you the next time we have need of you."

I stood as well; my lunch break was almost over. "Yeah. One of these days, I'd really like to know how you guys always know when someone's in trouble. You guys remind me of that film 'Eagle Eye.'"

Finch smiled slightly. "Perhaps you _will_ find out someday."

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**A/N1:** The random weird words that Finch said to Bear was essentially "Good boy, Bear. Quiet." in Dutch. I used Google Translate because I don't actually speak Dutch, so forgive me if that's in inaccurate translation. Oh, and this story is finished. "_Talk With The Boss_" is a direct sequel to "_Visitor_," so maybe, _maybe_, this will grow into a series. XD

**A/N2: **Oh, and seriously, watch the movie "_Eagle Eye_." Eagle Eye is a supercomputer that is incredibly similar to The Machine. Although, it's worth noting: The Machine actually _does_ exist in real life, only it's not sentient like the one in PoI. It's called "Palantir," and is pretty awesome. :o) I sincerely want Fusco to find out about the Machine; can you tell? XD I'm deliberately not writing much about that, though, because I don't want to get ahead of the series; then I'd have to classify things as AU, and I don't want to do that.


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